


Real Mermaids Don't Wear Sunscreen

by Untherius



Category: Emberverse - S. M. Stirling, Real Mermaids Series - Hélène Boudreau, Tangled (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:12:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Untherius/pseuds/Untherius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I felt like I had a relationship with a certain park bench.  Plenty of important life events had happened while sitting on it:  finding Mom after we thought she'd drowned; the Change event; Luke proposing to me; going into labor with our first child.  Sure, things had been really weird for a while, but I was finally ready for things to get back to normal.  Pft!  Who was I kidding?  My life hadn't been normal since the summer of my fourteenth year when Mom had drowned...or so we'd thought.  Then the following May I'd discovered, to my horror, that I was a mermaid!  And...things kind of went downhill from there.  Little did I know that my forty-fifth birthday would bring the most earth-shattering surprise I could imagine, and I didn't mean my latest unborn child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real Mermaids Don't Wear Sunscreen

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes authors set their stories in real places and sometimes they invent them. When I Googled Port Toulouse, I found that it's the original name of the real-world town now called St. Peter's in Nova Scotia. Interestingly, most of the details from Boudreau's books match St. Peter's and its environs VERY closely. So I think it's safe to say that Port Toulouse is a fictionalized St. Peter's. I therefore decided to treat the place as though it were really a part of real-world northeastern Nova Scotia.
> 
> Also, there's apparently a fourth book in the series due out...er...sometime later this year, I think. As such things go, there may be details and events in that book that my story contradicts. And, in the spirit of fanfic, I'm going to have to decide whether to ignore them, or edit this story to reflect canon. Anyway, I'm going off of where Jade's story leaves off at the end of RMD Need High Heels.

Port Toulouse, Nova Scotia, Dominion of Ruantallan  
June 30, CY 30, 2042 AD

I felt like I had a relationship with a certain park bench. It was one of several installed along the shore of Talisman Lake. Like the others, it was really showing forty-plus years of wear and weather. Someone really ought to replace the boards on the things. But who'd do that? It wasn't like we'd had a Parks Department or an official Battery Provincial Park—although we Port Toulousians still called it that—for years.

I'd been sitting on said bench roughly thirty years ago, eating a Bridget Burger with waffle fries and chocolate-covered WigWags, a few days after my life had stopped being normal. No, it hadn't been anything to do with what a lot of people determinedly called “the Change.” For me, though, pretty much everything had been one change after another. Yup, I was ready for life to finally get back to normal.

Pft! Who was I kidding? My life hadn't been normal since the summer of my fourteenth year. That was when my mother had drowned...or so we'd thought. But then, the following May, on the eve of my fourteenth birthday—and at the official onset of puberty, no less—things had become...a little weird. Okay, they'd become a LOT weird.

Sure, every girl goes through puberty. But not every girl's first period comes with a mermaid tail. Over the following several weeks, I'd discovered—sitting on this very bench, no less—that my mother, a full mermaid, was still alive nearly a year after having been officially declared drowned, and being held prisoner by other mer-prisoners in Talisman Lake. I'd managed, some three weeks later, to find her and free her. That had been when I'd begun my mental journey from thinking I was the only mermaid in the universe to knowing I was one of many, from thinking I was totally alone to having an awesome support group.

Over the summer, things had become even less normal. I'd helped Mom regain legs and come home, fought what I'd thought was an evil corporate environmental disaster—but had actually been a case of ignorance more than anything--shared my mer-secret with my best friend Cori, discovered that Gran—Dad's mom—had known about the mer-thing all along, and I'd acquired my first boyfriend—who, incidentally, was a mer, too!

But had my life returned to normal with the return of school? Nnooo! Not for Jade Baxter. In the first month, I'd befriended, initially against my will—which, well, just about everything surrounding my mer-identity had been imposed on me against my will--the daughter of the mers who'd kidnapped Mom, learned that those mers were actually political prisoners and victims themselves, discovered that Bridget—the then-owner of Bridget's Diner—and Coach Laurena from school were also mers, that my parents had never actually married—some annoying paperwork issue stemming from Mom not actually having a birth certificate--I'd reunited my then-boyfriend Luke with his mer-family, discovered that Mr. Chamberlain—the local development magnate--was a mer, brought down an evil mer-regime—with help, of course--discovered that my maternal grandmother was behind it, and had attended my first-ever formal dance. Whew! Not bad for a plus-sized teenage half-mermaid still learning how to use her tail, eh?

But had things returned to normal after that? No chance! At the time, I'd pretty much accepted that being a mer with half a mer-family and several mer-friends had become a new normal for me. Later that year, Mr. Chamberlain had helped resolve the paperwork issue and my parents had officially married. Aww! Talk about your warm fuzzies. After that, I'd been ready to be a part of a normal family again. About that accepting the new normal...well, it turned out that accepting such things went in stages and things had kind of felt weird off and on for a while.

Then March had rolled around, Mom had become pregnant again, and on the night of the seventeenth, everything—and I mean _everything_ —had hit the fan! In fact, I'd been sitting on this very bench when it had happened, the night the whole world had gone all Medieval in one fell swoop.

I'd also been sitting on my bench when Luke had proposed to me...and when I'd gone into labor with our first child. In fact, I was pretty sure the wood still bore the stains from my water breaking. I'd almost lost my virginity on it, too, and would have if Cori hadn't interrupted. I'd been a little upset with her at the time, but had actually thanked her for it after the honeymoon.

I twirled a twig in mid-air. Somehow, it always helped me calm-and-center. It was something I'd been doing ever since I'd learned how during the autumn of 2012. In addition to being a mermaid, the ability to do things like minor telekinesis was one of the perks of being a magical being. Oh, and the look on Dad's face when he'd been confronted with indisputable evidence of the existence and veracity of magic had been absolutely priceless! It was really too bad digital cameras had stopped working by then. Anyway, Dad had calmed down a little after it had been explained to him that science and magic were really aspects of the same thing.

I smiled at the memories and stroked my pregnant belly. I felt the baby kick. It was our thirteenth. Thirteen! If you'd have told me way back then that Luke and I would have thirteen children...well, I would have thought you completely insane...and then I'd have fainted. Well, at least had a hyperventilation fit. Real mermaids don't faint...that's my story, and I'm sticking to it! I chuckled to myself. No one had been able to plausibly accuse me and Luke of having a passionless marriage. Heck, our first kiss had happened before we'd even officially started dating.

I polished off my bit of moose jerky and sighed.

_Mama?_

I looked down at my son Amerigo. Yeah, Luke and I had given most of our children sea-related names...so sue me. Even at the age of four, he hadn't begun talking...at least, not in with a human voice. Dad was pretty sure Amerigo had a speech impediment and maybe he did. He could ring—the admittedly annoying high-pitched sounds we mers used to “talk” to each other--just fine, though, and it was gratifying listening to him have conversations with other mers. And, of course, Luke and I could communicate with him no problem.

 _Yes?_ I rang back.

_What are you thinking?_

I chuckled. _Oh, just that I miss Bridget Burgers, waffle fries, and WigWags,_ I rang.

 _But we had a Bridget Burger yesterday,_ he replied.

It was true. _Well, yes, but they're just not the same as they were back then._

_Oh._

_And I was pondering the world pre-you._

_You do that a lot, Mama._

I shrugged. _Yeah, I suppose I do._

_What were things like before?_

Luke and I had always told our children stories about things that had happened before the Change. There were multiple reasons for that.

First, the stories functioned as history lessons, which had always worked way better than sitting in a classroom listening to someone prattle on about dates and presidencies and so on. Stories just made history more interesting, entertaining, and relevant. Maybe that was why so many of us enjoyed historical fiction. It also made more sense to the increasing number of people who'd either been born since the Change, or had been too young to remember much about life before that. In concept, pre-Change technology seemed so much like magic. I supposed it would have helped the believability of things like cell phones and computers if those things actually functioned.

Second, stories helped us keep certain memories alive in our own minds, which was surprisingly difficult. I'd been told it was a little like adults remembering their childhoods, or their lives before their meeting their spouses or creating their children. I could totally relate to that.

Third, they helped us maintain our sanity in a world that had gone completely insane. As the years went by, though, the third part became less important as the world itself settled into a new normal. And settling into a new normal was something I knew intimately.

 _Well_ , I rang, _let me see if there's a story I haven't told._ I knew there were many, but, of course, not all of them were suitable for a four-year-old.

I dug a fruity oatey bar out of my waist pack and handed it to Amerigo. His eyes lit up as he took my offering and bit into it. Sure, fruity oatey bars weren't WigWags, nor were they Reese's Peanut Butter Cup smores, but they were pretty tasty. There were just some things that could be copied in the Changed world, some that were just gone for good, and others that saw their genesis.

I watched my son munch on the bar for a moment before twitching my pinkie, raising a small, flat rock from the ground in front of me. I set the rock spinning, then flicked my finger and the rock went sailing off across the water. One skip...two...seven...twelve...fourteen! A new personal record! Luke would be jealous. He couldn't use magic and had to skip rocks the conventional way. There'd been some contention in the early Change years around rock-skipping contests during festivals. There'd been allegations of cheating and, well, I supposed a sport wouldn't be a sport without some controversy or other.

Amerigo abruptly looked at something behind me. _Mama? Who's that?_

I twisted around and craned my neck to look up. A woman stood behind my bench. “Oh,” I said, rising to my feet. Those who've never been eight-and-a-half months pregnant in their mid-forties didn't know how difficult that could be. I turned to face the woman. “Sorry, I didn't hear you approach.”

“Don't worry about it,” said the woman disarmingly.

Her accent was one I'd never heard before. That didn't necessarily mean much. I hadn't been away from Nova Scotia much even before the Change. Sure, Talisman Lake had been a vacation destination, drawing plenty of people from all over the world, though nearly all of them came from elsewhere in eastern Canada, the British Commonwealth, or the eastern United States. The woman in front of me, however, sounded German...or, at least, partly. The German accent was definitely there, though it seemed like it was overlain with a lot of others, as though she'd grown up around people with different accents of which German was only one.

That wasn't the only unusual thing about her. She wore a lavender-pink dress I recognized as late seventeenth-century German. Having been involved in a Medieval history group had all sorts of advantages. Her feet were bare and unusually clean. Her brown hair, pinned up in an odd sort of ponytail, had a strange red-orange cast to it and seemed to shimmer like glowing embers. Her large, green eyes almost shone with their own inner light. She held a wriggly, alert baby girl, a twelve-month-old from the look of her, effortlessly on her left hip. Both of them appeared to be glowing slightly, but that must have been my imagination.

I also didn't recognize her. Strangers used to be quite common in Port Toulouse, especially during the summer. Since the Change, however, everybody knew everybody. The rare visitors were invariably itinerants of some sort—performers, purveyors of purportedly unusual goods, mercenaries, hunter-trappers, wanderers looking for temporary work—traders from overseas, invaders from the north, the east, or the mainland, or Ruantallan soldiers from the south. Maybe she'd arrived the day before with the Dominion contingent from Halifax.

I extended my hand. “Jade Martin,” I said.

“Rapunzel Fitzherbert,” she said. Well, _that_ was a mouthful! Rapunzel grasped my hand and sCOULDhook it firmly and confidently. Her hand was warm, almost hot. That was odd...she didn't look or act like she had a fever.  
Even more noticeable was the other thing I felt in that handshake. Many magi, myself included, could sense magical power in others. The sheer magnitude of raw cosmic power I felt in Rapunzel nearly knocked me into the lake! Oddly, though, it wasn't magical power. It was...something else...and it scared the snot out of me! I tried not to let it show. Somehow, I sensed she could tell, but was likewise trying not to let on she'd noticed my alarm.

“You have a beautiful baby,” I said, trying to make a little small talk. I also wanted to extract information. People, and especially women, rarely traveled alone. Whoever this Rapunzel was, she was clearly far more dangerous than she looked.

Rapunzel smiled and looked at her child. “This is my youngest daughter Loraya.” Then she leaned down slightly to look at Amerigo. “So what's your name?” she asked him.

 _Amerigo,_ he rang.

“Ah,” she said. “As in, Vespucci?”

I felt my eyebrow raise. Either she was a mer—I glanced at her toes, looking for the tell-tale webbing between the third and fourth, which was absent—or...what was that term for people with the magical ability to understand all languages...oh, yeah, an All-Speaker. I knew the Dominar was fond of sending unassuming people through the populace's metaphorical back doors in an effort to learn information that was normally unobtainable by other means, but I didn't think he even knew about magi, let alone had any in his employ. Still, one could never be too careful about such things. I wasn't entirely sure Rapunzel wasn't a maga, but that much power was impossible to miss. It was likely she was some obscure type, maybe one from another world. But if that was the case, why was she on Earth? Did it have something to do with the Change?

Amerigo nodded. _He discovered America, you know,_ he rang.

“So I've read,” replied Rapunzel.

Okay, I was definitely curious.

Welcome to Port Toulouse, I rang. Being friendly was always a good idea, especially when in the company of dangerous people. While it also helped to be wary of those who wanted to take advantage of a situation, especially those who could understand Mermish, far more of us needed all the help...and friends...we could get in the Changed world. And just because Rapunzel was dangerous didn't necessarily mean she was up to no good.

“Thank-you,” said Rapunzel, nodding graciously. The woman had a particular elegance about her. “So,” she said, “what's all the to-do?” She gestured toward town.

“Oh, that,” I said, returning to my human voice. I still wanted to know what she was and why she was in Port Toulouse. “It's...kind of an annual festival. One of several, actually.”

I went on to explain how Port Toulouse held several festivals each year. Before the Change, our otherwise sleepy seaside town had been the place where everyone on the southern half of Cape Breton Island—except for the immediate vicinity of Port Hawkesbury--and all of Isle Madame—which generally meant all the communities south and west of Grand Narrows and particularly those scattered around the circumference of Talisman Lake—went to do all their major shopping. Then there were the summer tourists. Which was why we could support things like Port Toulouse Mall, Home Depot, and Dad's engineering firm. It was also where most of the kids within a ten-mile radius had attended school.

After the Change, when people's travel was suddenly limited to how far they or a horse could walk or how far they could sail or row up and down Talisman Lake in a day, Port Toulouse, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which had to do with the canal connecting Talisman Lake to the Atlantic Ocean, had turned into a trade hub. That hadn't happened overnight, of course. But the point was that my sleepy seaside town was still where everyone in the region came to do business with each other. That had been even more so after the Cape Breton Regional Municipality at the extreme northeastern end of Nova Scotia had imploded in the wake of the Change.

The festivals had more to do with trade than anything else, really. For that matter, events like Nicolas Denys Days had, even before the Change, been a lot about business for local artisans, hand-crafters, and local small-scale farmers. That was one thing that really hadn't changed, despite the shift in the nature of goods offered. In addition to commerce, the festivals were an opportunity for people to catch up with each other, especially when it came to all the latest juicy gossip, since we no longer had Facebook and Twitter.

Various sporting events had become part of festivals, too, and some of those were no doubt a way to blow off steam from a winter's accumulated cabin fever. In addition, the folks from Halifax used them as a way to identify and recruit skilled fighters, or ones that had potential. I supposed some of that was leftover from the early days when Halifax had been fending off hordes of refugees streaming out of places like Ottawa, Montreal, Quebec City, and the New England states, to say nothing of the problems Halifax itself had endured at the time. I wasn't really sure why it continued. It wasn't like there was really anyone left to conquer, now that the Dominion of Ruantallan had expanded to encompass Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island, part of far eastern Quebec, and some of Maine. Beyond that were either the huge death zones, or vast tracts of uninhabited land. The leading theories all revolved around colonization.

“Um...I really should be getting over there anyway,” I said. That much was true. There was a tournament underway, which was always followed by Dominion Court.

While people were free to come and go when it came to the tournament, attendance at court was strictly mandatory. Punishment for absence was severe. It didn't even matter if you were on your death-bed. You were _going_ to be at court, no ifs, ands, or buts. It had never been particularly clear just how the Dominar found out about absentees, though it was widely whispered that he had something akin to the Spanish Inquisition or the Nazi Gestapo. Oh, the joys of living in a police state.

Rapunzel glanced at the twig, which was still spinning lazily in mid-air, and raised her eyebrow. “I see you're a maga,” she said.

With a barely-perceptible and long-practiced flick of my wrist, I drove the twig into the bark of the nearest tree. I gave the other woman a side-long glance. Magic was one of the secrets we Port Toulousians had all sworn to take to our graves. We'd been educated about it in the First Change Year and had realized soon after that, as had been the case with my secret mer-identity, it would be all too easy for those of low scruples to use magi for their own nefarious purposes. Had the Dominar somehow found out and then tortured the details out of someone? I cursed myself for my carelessness. What if someone else had noticed? What if Rapunzel was some sort of spy?

“How do you know about that?” I asked slowly.

Rapunzel smiled warmly. “I've been briefed,” she said. “And I observe all that the sun's light touches.”

“It's beautiful today, isn't it?” I said, trying to get back to the small talk. “The sun, I mean.” It was true. There was not a cloud in the sky, which was not unusual for summertime, and it wasn't particularly hot, either.

She gazed up at the sun and smiled warmly. She neither blinked, nor squinted, nor did her eyes water. How did she do that? The evidence that she really was a maga was mounting. She giggled. “Thank-you,” she said. What was that supposed to mean? “I also know about...that other thing,” she added.

“Care to vague that up for me?” Where was she going with her line of questioning? I was beginning to grow suspicious. While she as a person seemed to be perfectly disarming enough, which may have been the idea, she seemed to know more than anyone outside of Port Toulouse should.

“You know, the swimmy thing?”

Still not helpful.

“The one that happens to you when you take in a lung full of water?” Rapunzel prodded.

Oh...that one. The existence of mers was an even more-closely-guarded secret than the magic. How did she know? I suddenly had a bad feeling about the little encounter we were having.

Rapunzel laughed. “You people really are funny. The looks on your faces alone...well, anyway, there are more of your kind elsewhere in the world. And you can relax around me. I won't bite...hard...unless you ask...or you threaten my family...or you have terminal cranial-rectosis.”

It was my turn to laugh, which, as usual, came out in a most undignified manner. No one could ever say that I've ever been particularly ladylike about much of anything. Somehow, though, there was just something about Rapunzel that made me want to like her, despite that she seemed to know far more than she should. Maybe it was her cute, round face. Maybe it was the large, innocent-looking eyes.

“Besides,” added Rapunzel, “none of those things apply to you, so you have nothing to fear from me.”

My smile faded. How could she possibly know anything about me? Sure, there were certain things you could guess about a person. I'd also met a few people with a knack for, as they sometimes put it, “sizing people up.” Maybe Rapunzel was one of those people.

But there was something else about her and I just couldn't put my finger on it. There seemed be more, far more, behind those big green eyes than would be suggested by the young mother smiling at me. But what? I wasn't a natural people-reader, but even I could tell she was a complicated person. Or maybe it was just the mistrust of strangers everyone seemed to have developed in the Changed world. Well, I supposed being unfriendly wouldn't help any of that anyway. Besides, maybe I could still learn something about who she was and why she'd come to Port Toulouse.

I took Amerigo by the hand and led Rapunzel along the path that ran from my bench along the shoreline and up to the road. We passed through the palisade gate and crossed the metal bridge over the canal, my leather flip-flops making their familiar smacking sound against the bottoms of my feet. West of the canal, Grenville Rd. became Main St.

On the way, I told her about the history of Port Toulouse. I still had no idea what she knew or was letting on that she knew, so I let her lead the conversation. She'd clearly done her homework, though there were some odd gaps in her knowledge. She was aware of the history of the region up until the Change. She also knew about the strange people who'd arrived in early October following the Change event.

But she didn't seem to know anything at all about what had happened between when those people had departed the following spring and about a year ago. There was also a marked difference between the kinds of information she knew. It was as though she'd learned about Port Toulouse from three entirely different sources: pre-Change history from books; the first Change Year from talking to people who'd lived it; and the last year like she'd been watching it on GoogleEarth or something. It was all rather odd.

But Rapunzel listened and well. One didn't raise a dozen children, most of them through to adulthood, without learning how to tell whether or not someone was really listening. She asked good questions. The more questions she asked, the more I started to question my own initial suspicions about her, especially the ones about her having arrived from Halifax. But if she wasn't from Halifax, then how'd she get here and from where? More to the point, what was she doing here?

By the time we reached the tournament grounds a half-hour later, I felt like I had more questions that Rapunzel had asked. I didn't pose any of them myself. Frankly, I didn't know where to start. I suddenly felt apprehensive about leaving her alone. Few of us had any problems letting our children run around town by themselves most of the time. But with Halifax soldiers in town, well, those guys had a reputation for being highly unchivalrous. And the so-called Knights and Noblemen—who were really nothing of the sort--had Special Dispensation, which more or less amounted to what used to be called Diplomatic Immunity before the Change.

“You know,” I said to her, “you're more than welcome to hang out with me. I have to go round up my other children anyway.” The rest of them were with their elder siblings, a few of whom had been fighting in the tournament.  
In addition to the fact that I hadn't felt like dealing with crowds, I'd actually gone into labor with my daughter Amelia during a tournament and had been forced to stand through court—sitting was prohibited--enduring contractions and trying not to to draw any attention to myself. To make matters worse, Amelia had been conceived while I was in mer-form and, oddly enough, any such child had to also be delivered with me in mer-form. I had absolutely no desire to go through that ever again. Hence my hanging out at the lakeshore.

“Oh, no,” said Rapunzel dismissively. “I'll be fine. You go and enjoy yourself. But thank-you for the invitation. I have to take care of some business anyway.”

“Sure,” I said. I wasn't sure what sort of business that was, but one learned that being too nosy was just asking for a blade in the back. The Changed world ran on a precarious balance between a need-to-know basis and survivalist intelligence. “I don't suppose I have to tell you to be careful of those Knights, do I?” I'd only been harping on that for a full five minutes during our walk from the park.

Rapunzel chuckled. “Don't worry about me. I've dealt with worse, believe me.”

Somehow, I did. Darned if I knew why.

* * *

By the time I joined my family, the tournament was winding down. The final bout was underway. I thought back to the days before the Change when such things had been conducted using rattan swords wrapped in duct tape, helms with sturdy wire protecting their wearers' faces, standard safety precautions, and so on.

Modern tournaments were fought in everyday armor with live steel. But even with blunted swords, combatants still sometimes died. The style had changed, too. Before, the standard had been that if the combatants had been using real swords with sharpened edges, and the blow would have been enough to kill or maim you, then you said so. It had been done entirely on the honor system. That had changed, too, and bouts usually continued until one combatant was either unable to fight, or yielded the field. So it had become a hybrid between chivalrous combat and boxing.

The prize was a place in the Elite Guard—sort of a post-Change version of the Green Berets or the Army Rangers—and the right to bed any woman in the victor's home town, regardless of age. That last bit had been, and still was, highly contentious. But it had taken a back seat about a decade before when the Dominar had enacted the even more contentious law of Primae Noctis, which gave local lords and knights the legal right to be the first to bed any bride on the first night of her union. That was another reason I'd stopped attending tournaments. The whole thing just gave me a sour stomach.

“I was beginning to think you'd fallen in,” said Cori as she gave me a hug, which was no mean feat, what with my newest incipient child in the way.

“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “This close to my due date?” Cori laughed, too. She knew full well I couldn't actually drown. But she also knew that me mermacizing this far along in a pregnancy was sure to trigger labor. It had happened with my son Odysseus.

I'd been strolling along the shore with Luke when I'd slipped and gone tumbling into the water. I'd learned to swim human-style some years before, but I'd also lost my impulse to hold my breath while swimming. In fact, I always had to remember _not_ to breathe if I didn't intend to mermacize. Well, I'd inhaled water and sprouted my tail. When I'd crawled back out, the pain that always accompanied the transformation back to legs had sent me into labor and Odysseus had been born nearly a month early.

Cori bapped me on the arm. “You're funny,” she said.

I shrugged. “I know.”

A strong male voice from the general direction of the tournament field interrupted us. “All draw nigh for the Court of His Excellency, William MacDoughal, Dominar of Ruantallan!”

“Excellent, my fin,” I grumbled under my breath.

Cori snorted next to me and Luke grunted assent from my other side.

If that guy's excellent, he rang quietly, then I have some oceanfront property in Moose Jaw to sell you.

And I'll put toe-tail polish on my fin, I rang back.

Cori nudged me and gave me her 'guys, knock it off,' look. Most Port Toulousians knew about mers and which of us were of the scaly persuasion, as it were. But we all went out of our way to pretend there was no such thing when outsiders were present.

Everyone, all four-plus thousand of us, crowded toward a large dragon-wing pavilion that stood flapping in the breeze at the far end of the field. It had once been the main sports field for the East Richmond Education Center, of which both elementary and high schools had been a part. After the world had Changed, however, the education system had changed with it.

Everyone stood in rows, kind of like soldiers. Even the very pregnant, the elderly and the infirmed were forced to stand. It made me angry. If I were in charge, _everyone_ would get to sit down. Especially since court tended to go a while.

MacDoughal processed with his herald, his wife the Dominara Mary, and their entourage, more than half of which was heavily-armed. They all took their places under the canopy.

“His Excellency invites into his court,” announced the herald, “Queen Elsa of Corona!”

I turned to see a familiar woman process down the isle. It was Rapunzel. What was with the alternate name? Instead of the pink dress, she wore a red, knee-length, short-sleeved tunic, with a flaming flower and three suns embroidered in gold. An ornate crown rested on her head. Her feet were bare as before and she carried her child. Otherwise, she was alone.

She walked with what seemed to be both a no-nonsense confidence and a casual relaxedness. She seemed to be at once enjoying herself and on a mission. I'd seldom seen that blend of business and pleasure. People tended to be either doing one or the other, but rarely both at the same time like Rapunzel was. She smiled at everyone she passed. She took her time walking down the isle. I glanced toward the covering and noticed that MacDoughal wore his well-known impatient expression. I wondered if Rapunzel noticed. Something told me that if she did, she wouldn't have cared and that bothered me. It would surely have rubbed the Dominar the wrong way and that never went well.

At last, Rapunzel stopped in front of MacDoughal. “Nal-heratho, ya-As-Doughal,” she said. That was an odd manner of address. Maybe it was her custom. A flash of irritation crossed MacDoughal's face and I wondered if Rapunzel was intentionally poking the bear, as it were. Surely she wouldn't dare. Maybe she would and she was using her child as insurance. MacDoughal may have been a monster, but he generally restrained himself in the presence of children, if only just a little.

“Welcome to Ruantallan, your Majesty,” said MacDoughal, his voice a little strained. “Would you please join us?” He motioned to an empty chair next to his left.

“Loramin,” she said casually, “but I'll stand out here, if it's all the same to you.”

“And if it isn't?” prodded MacDoughal.

“I'll stand out here anyway,” said Rapunzel. At that, she turned to her right, took a few steps, and turned around to face the rest of us. She deposited her daughter onto the ground and proceeded to stand there casually and self-assured.

MacDoughal glared at Rapunzel. Clearly, the guy was unused to people not taking him up on his invitations to what most of us considered to be brown-nosing. He was even less used to downright defiance. Well, I still didn't know who Rapunzel really was, but I couldn't help but think, You go, girl! Anyone with enough guts to stand up to MacDoughal like that certainly had my respect.

“His Lordship has the results of the tournament,” announced the herald.

Murmurs drifted through the crowd. I sighed.

A man I recognized as Lord Blackwood stepped forward. Blackwood was the director of the Elite Guard and always supervised tournaments like the one that had just concluded less than an hour before. He looked down at a piece of parchment. One would have thought there'd have been enough pre-Change paper left over to last several lifetimes. But apparently not. “Leif Martin, come forward!”

You could have knocked me over with a feather. Applause went up—we were supposed to do that, regardless of how we felt about the tournaments—as my son swaggered forward. I leaned over to Luke. _I thought he wasn't entering,_ I rang.

 _That's what I thought, too,_ he rang back.

_Why didn't you stop him?_

_Once someone enters, there are no withdrawals. You know that._

I dropped the conversation. I knew Luke was right. I also knew that the high-pitched ringing we mers used to communicate would only be drowned by the cheering for so long. But there was no way the discussion was over. I was suddenly worried for Leif. He was to return to Halifax for training. Rumor had it that most people were also indoctrinated, which was widely regarded as another way of saying brainwashed. But what could I do? Sure, I'd helped take down a mer-regime at age fourteen, but they hadn't had cross-bows! The stakes had become far higher. It was one of those days I hated being an adult.

The herald ran through the usual ceremony, then handed things off to the Dominion Seneschal, who read a long list of law changes. A lot of those had to do with taxation. Seriously? The old government collapsed thirty years before and the new one _still_ felt compelled to over-complicate things? Sheesh!

Once the Seneschal had finished, MacDoughal stood up. “Furthermore,” he said, “I've decided that Primae Noctis is to be retroactive. Effective immediately, any woman married since her home was brought under the protection of the Dominion of Ruantallan shall be subject to treatment such as would have been applicable were Primae Noctis in effect at the time of her wedding.”

He couldn't have been serious! An awful lot of those women were mothers, some of them grandmothers, myself included! Murmurs went through the crowd. No one dared boo, though. Oh, but I felt like it. I felt like screeching out the loudest, highest, shrillest ring possible right in that bastard's ear!

MacDoughal sat back down and the herald continued. “Queen Elsa has business before this court!”

Rapunzel stepped forward. “You have an interesting outlook on things,” she said to MacDoughal. I noticed she didn't use a title of any sort. I also noticed that MacDoughal twitched a little. “And,” continued Rapunzel, “you've made quite an impression on me.” She gestured at the crown on his head. “May I?”

MacDoughal hesitated.

“I promise I won't keep it.”

That apparently amused MacDoughal. He took his crown from his head and extended it toward Rapunzel. “Don't get any funny ideas,” he growled. Boy, he was touchy. I knew the man had a temper, but I'd never seen anyone get under his skin like that, especially in so brief a time. It was like she barely had to try.

Rapunzel stayed where she was and beckoned to MacDoughal. He frowned. She beckoned again. “Please come here,” she said finally. Her voice had an edge to it.

MacDoughal raised an eyebrow, but stayed where he was.

“I said,” said Rapunzel insistently, “come here.”

MacDoughal took a single step forward, the edge of the crown glinting in the sunlight. “I cannot be summoned like a mongrel dog!” he barked.

Rapunzel snatched the crown out of his hands. “Apparently, you can.”

What was she doing? There was only one of her and the place was crawling with Dominion soldiers. MacDoughal only had to nod and they'd be all over her like white on rice. And then...I restrained a shudder. I didn't need the Baxter family IQ to know what would happen after that.

Rapunzel held the crown in her hands, looking at it. She seemed to be caressing it with her eyes. At last, she looked back at the Dominar. “This is excellent workmanship,” she said. “I trust its maker was compensated well?”

MacDoughal hesitated. “He...well, we took care of him.”

“I figured as much.” Rapunzel's tone abruptly changed. She turned back toward the rest of us. “This crown,” she continued, her raised voice easily filling the space, “is a symbol. It represents everything a leader is required to be to their people. Protector, facilitator, enabler, upholder of justice. The one who wears it must hold within themselves the qualities necessary in a good leader...strength, courtesy, chivalry, wisdom, fairness, kindness, sacrifice.”

Rapunzel propped the crown on her left hand and forearm. “This man,” she said, sweeping her right arm around to point at the Dominar, “has betrayed all of it!” Her voice carried so well, the strategically-placed repeater heralds didn't need to do anything.

She whirled around to face MacDoughal, who was already glaring furiously. “I have seen your works. I have seen how you treat the people under your rule, both high and low, young and old, male and female, human and not. I have observed your behavior on the road between Halifax and here and elsewhere throughout your domain. It's pathetic, sickening, and wrong on so many levels. You are guilty of atrocities, sins, excesses, and flagrant, egregious abuses of your power. I have noted seven hundred and fifty-eight counts of such in the last year alone.”

Rapunzel's voice changed, throbbing with some deep power and authority that I could somehow feel right down to my bones. It made all the little hairs on my arms and legs stand up. I was quite sure it would have made the scales on my tail stand up, too, were I in that form. “You, William MacDoughal, are unfit to rule! You have been weighed. You have been measured. You have been found most egregiously wanting. It is our judgment that you are not worthy! Therefore, we, Elsa Rapunzel Firewalker Syele Agnes Clare Fitzherbert Corona...” Forget what I said earlier about her name being a mouthful, _that_ took the cake! “...Queen of the Dominion of Corona, Holder of Earth, and Star of this System do hereby exercise our celestial prerogative and withdraw from you your right to rule! We strip you of all of your power! You are henceforth no longer Dominar, or holder of any other position of authority.”

MacDoughal tipped his head back and laughed. Was he crazy? He clapped, then stepped arrogantly out from beneath the canopy. “Well-spoken,” he said, his voice full of sadistic mirth. “I wish I'd thought of something like that. You're good, I'll give you that much. But, ah, no. I don't think so. In point of fact, I'm arresting _you_ for attempting to incite insurrection. Then I'm going to execute you for treason.”

Rapunzel tipped her own head back and laughed. It didn't sound like a laugh of defiance so much as one of amusement. How could she possibly find that funny? That man was dangerous! But then, so was she. “You'll do no such thing,” said Rapunzel. “Oh, you can try. But you will fail. Besides, killing me will kill you. You don't have the means to kill me anyway.”

William drew his sword and brandished it threateningly. Only Rapunzel didn't seem the least bit concerned. “You were saying? I don't really have to kill you anyway. I can just as easily make an example of you.”

Rapunzel rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. There's absolutely nothing you can do to me that's remotely as bad as what I've already endured.”

MacDoughal took another step forward. Rapunzel abruptly turned her hand palm out, and planted it on the man's chest, stopping him in his tracks. “I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with your nonsense, young man.”

“The world doesn't revolve around you!” snapped MacDoughal.

“Actually,” said Rapunzel sternly, “you'll find that, in point of fact, it does.” Well, _that_ sounded arrogant.

Rapunzel raised her voice again, her tone quite annoyed. “It is written that the sun shines on the just and the unjust alike. What it doesn't say is that the sun can also _thump_ the unjust, as it were.” Rapunzel moved her hand and gave William a firm rap on the top of his head with her fist. I could have sworn I heard a slight crunching sound. “Consider yourself thumped,” said Rapunzel as William swayed, his eyes blinking.

She placed a fingertip against his chest and pushed. He toppled over, sitting down hard, the sword flying out of his hand. Several soldiers rushed forward. Rapunzel glared at them. “Boys,” she said, “don't. Just...don't.” They all stopped in their tracks.

Rapunzel returned her attention to us. “Now, we have a good bit to discuss and it could take a while, so why don't you all make yourselves comfortable? In fact, I insist. _Do_ make yourselves comfortable.” No one budged. “That means sit down,” she said sternly, but with a subtle amused tone to her voice, as though she were inviting, rather than commanding, us to sit down. One by one, everyone began to pull up a patch of grass.

“Except for you,” she said, pointing straight at me.

I froze and blinked. She couldn't possibly be pointing at me. I leaned over to Luke. “I think she means you,” I said quietly, not daring to risk ringing to him in the dead hush that had fallen over the crowd.

“Jade Martin,” continued Rapunzel, “come before me!”

Luke leaned over. “No,” he said, “she definitely means you. Now, get up there.”

“That's you, fish girl,” said Cori from behind me.

 _Go, Mom,_ rang Amerigo.

“I'm waiting,” said Rapunzel. “I can literally stand here like this all day, you know.”

I exhaled and stepped out into the isle. Need a hand? Luke rang.

No, I rang back, I'm good. But was I? I glanced around me. A few people were already sitting, some frozen halfway to the ground and staring at me, but most still on their feet. I nearly staggered down the isle. It certainly wasn't very ladylike. On the other hand, I'd never really been that ladylike about anything anyway. So why start now?

What did she want? What was I doing? All I really knew was that I had a feeling that I didn't dare refuse. Any woman who showed as much flagrant disregard for a man like MacDoughal as Rapunzel had was sure to make either a powerful ally or a dangerous enemy. I stopped a couple of paces in front of Rapunzel. She grinned from ear to ear, her little girl standing next to her likewise smiling at me.

“People of Port Toulouse and the associated communities of Cape Breton!” she said. “You, and the rest of the Dominion of Ruantallan, are in need of a leader...a _good_ leader.” She took a step toward me, holding the crown out before her in both hands. It hovered over my head. She couldn't possibly be doing what it seemed like she was doing!

“Jade and I,” she continued, “had a very nice chat earlier today. Following that and pursuant to my other observations, as well as briefings and recommendations from my own people in Corona, I find her to be worthy!”

I swore I could feel my brain literally spinning inside my skull. I felt my pulse rise. I was suddenly terrified, but not in any way I remembered ever having felt before.

“Therefore,” continued Rapunzel, “we are minded to bestow upon you the mantle of authority over the entire Dominion of Ruantallan. Know that should you accept, the responsibility of governing all its people will rest upon your shoulders. What say you, ya-Jade?”

My breath caught in my throat. My heart pounded. I felt my eyes grow so wide, I was sure they'd fall out of their sockets, either before or after someone picked my jaw up off the ground. I swore I was going to go into labor on the spot.

Rapunzel leaned closer. “Please say yes,” she said softly. “I know you're up to the challenge.”

I took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it back out. “But what if I don't want it?” I asked softly.

“In my considerable experience, the best leaders are those who never wanted anything to do with it. Yet they took up the mantle of leadership anyway, not for themselves, nor for any of their own ambition, but because there was a need and they were the right people at the right time. You are one of those people. So what say you?”

My blood pounded in my ears. “I...I can't,” I said. “People should choose their own leaders. If we impose this on them, then I'm no better than him.” I practically growled the last word as I jerked my thumb backward toward MacDoughal, who still lay semi-conscious on the ground behind me.

“You're already far better than him,” said Rapunzel. “But if it would make you feel better...” She turned to the assembly. “Missus Martin has a point. The MacDoughals imposed their rule upon you. Little by little, though it may have been wrested from you, you all gave your consent. Government always governs at the consent of the governed and on this point Jade and I agree. You are now free to choose. You all know MacDoughal, the kind of man he is, and the way he's been governing you. Many of you also know Jade and the sort of person she is.

“Let's have a show of hands, shall we? And please be honest. How many of you would choose to allow MacDoughal to continue ruling Ruantallan?”

There was dead silence, save for the muted sound of the ocean surf a mile away. I swear I could have heard the crickets breathe, let alone chirp.

Rapunzel nodded. “Now who would prefer Jade Martin?”

The cheering response was deafening. In addition to the thunderous applause, a number of people began to chant my name. I wasn't entirely sure how much of the ringing in my ears was from the sheer volume and how much was from the mers in the audience. To say I was stunned would have been a severe understatement. After a few minutes, the applause died down.

Rapunzel turned to me. “I believe the people have chosen. They want you in charge. Now what say you?”

I nodded. “Y-yes,” I said. “I...I accept.” What the heck was I doing? What was I thinking? I wasn't leadership material! I was just Jade! The next thing I knew, I felt the crown of Ruantallan settle onto my copper-red head. Oh, crap, I thought.

“Hral Dominara Jade!” called Rapunzel.

I turned around to the thunderous applause, shouts, cheers, and whistles of the crowd. I'm sure I must have looked like a cod fish, since Luke seemed to be laughing. I stood there, staring. As the applause died down, I felt something bump against the backs of my legs. I twisted around to find the travel throne, a model meant to be assembled and disassembled for road trips, of Ruantallan right behind me, held by a member of retinue. Rapunzel nodded to it and I sat down on the cushion.

She leaned over to me. “And happy birthday,” she said and winked. Then she moved aside and nodded to me. Wow...some birthday present! I doubted there was any way Luke could top it! But how did she know it was my birthday?

I gathered my thoughts. “Um...first,” I stammered, “why don't you all finish sitting down?” I waited until everyone seemed settled. It was weird. I was used to my children doing what I told them to do...well, most of the time. People taking my swimming classes minded pretty well, too. But to have the entire population obeying me was new. On the other hand, sitting down was something they already wanted to do anyway. That was one thing my two decades of parenthood had taught me: the best way to get someone to do something was to make them _want_ to do it.

I rested a hand on my belly and sat up as straight as I could. I knew it was important to project a regal image, but I was pretty sure my baby bulge, not to mention my plain-looking yellow-green linsey-woolsey short-sleeved Norse apron dress, completely ruined my attempts at the effect.

“You all know,” I said, “that I've never really been that enthusiastic about dictatorships.” Some of the people...my people...knew about how I'd instigated an overthrow of the Mermish Council in my fifteenth year, the autumn before the Change. “That said, I'm going to make a proclamation anyway. Effective immediately, Primae Noctis is permanently repealed. I hope nobody minds.” The crowd erupted with cheers. One point for me.

Once the cheering died down again, I continued. “Now, we all know things are never going back to the way they were before the Change. But there's no reason they need to stay the way MacDoughal made them. I have some ideas and most of you know I've rarely spared the breath to express them. A lot of those are really rough and some might not actually work, so I'm going to need a lot of help with a lot of stuff. And I'm counting on all of you to keep my head from swelling over this.”

A few chuckles floated through the crowd.

“Now,” said Rapunzel from behind me, “if you wouldn't mind, your Excellency, I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with you all.”

“Um...sure,” I said. Excellency? Whoa.

“You can't do this!” yelled MacDoughal from behind me. I jumped so high, I'm sure I caught air.

Rapunzel whirled around. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we can,” she said indignantly.

I heard a couple of heavy footsteps approach me. “You have no right!” MacDoughal roared in my ear. Rapunzel's hand lanced out faster than I would have thought possible. I heard a smack, then a gasp from right behind me. I resisted the urge to flinch, not too successfully, I might add. Nice going, Jade...real queenly.

Before I knew it, MacDoughal's body flew over my head. Rapunzel had a firm grip on his neck and seemed to be using it to haul him over my chair. She flipped him head-over-heels in mid-air and slammed him down onto the ground like a rag doll. His body arched as he fought to draw breath. Rapunzel stood up and planted a bare foot on his chest. “I have _every_ right!” bellowed Rapunzel. Mental note: do _not_ piss off Rapunzel!

Dominara Mary chose that moment to storm out from under the canopy. “How _dare_ you?!” she demanded.

“Like this,” said Rapunzel as she quickly snatched Mary's crown off her head. “And you're no better than your husband! You've had plenty of opportunity to improve things for the people under your rule. Yet you squandered it all! You are no more fit to rule than he!”

Rapunzel handed the Dominara's crown to me. “I trust you have someone in mind for this?” she asked. I took the crown and nodded.

Rapunzel stood up straight and then changed. Her whole body started to shine...not just glow, but shine, as though she were a human light bulb. What looked like tongues of flame—no, not flame, more like the solar prominences I'd seen in science books--danced across her skin and licked the air around her. Her crown shone bright, like what I imagined an angel's halo to be. Was that what she was?

“I am the sun!” she announced. Her voice vibrated with an unearthly power. It bounced off of everything and the air itself resonated with it. Was she using magic? It didn't feel like it. That was another skill I had as a maga: I could tell when magic was being done by someone else, even if that someone was trying to cloak it.

No way, I thought. That was impossible! Though it would explain a few things.

“I'm the new day begun!” continued Rapunzel. “I bring you the morning, for I am the sun! I hold back the night and I open the sky! I bring light to your world and sight to your eyes! From the first of all time until time is undone, forever and ever, for I am the dawn and the sky and the sun! I am one with the One and I am the dawn!”

I suddenly recognized those words. They were from a song by the long-gone performing group Celtic Woman. A few of its surviving members had arrived in Port Toulouse, along with several magi and two ships partly full of extraterrestrials, the autumn following the Change. One of them, Chloe Agnew, had even been a mermaid! They'd all taught us a lot, particularly about magic. But things had already been set in motion that could not have been undone. It had been one thing after another and eventually, MacDoughal had taken over all of Nova Scotia just like boiling a frog. Had he gone straight at us, he wouldn't have stood a chance. But that was long in the past and I had a very strong feeling that a lot of things were about to change in a major, big-time way!

“We have a serious problem!” said Rapunzel. “It's one that won't be resolved as long as people like Billy here are in charge of things!” She twitched her foot against MacDoughal's chest. The man seemed to be recovering from the impact and was actively trying to remove Rapunzel's foot. It wouldn't budge. It was as though she'd nailed him with it to the ground. “Now I know what you're all thinking and I'm going to jump right to the part where I tell you that it's all quite complicated. The short version of my story...” She picked up the child she'd been carrying earlier. “...is that I used to be human.

“After I became the sun, I figured out how to have...relations...with my own human husband. And believe me, even talking to him over ninety-three million miles of mostly vacuum had a learning curve. Shortly after that, Loraya here was born.” She beamed at the little girl in her arms and kissed her on the forehead. “Stars believe that we shouldn't have relations with corporeals. Personally, I think that's complete nonsense. Unfortunately, the stellar conviction that we should keep to ourselves runs very deep. Consequently, Loraya's very existence has made a lot of stars very angry. They're on their way here to destroy us.

“Our situation is precarious. The stars of Milky Way are very unhappy with me, but since I'm one of their own, they'll defend me.”

“Just who,” said Cori, “is attacking us?”

“Andromeda,” said Rapunzel. “In short, they have far more stars than we do. Therefore, we're going to take to the heavens to assist in our own defense. Or, rather, _you_ are going to take to the heavens.”

“What?!” my Dad blurted. “No offense, but we could barely manage anti-ICBM platforms and that was _before_ the Change. How are we going to fly into space and defend ourselves against stars? Don't stars just...hang there and fuse hydrogen? And isn't all that going to take billions of years?”

Good ol' Dad. Always the scientist.

“That's part of what makes all this so complicated. Stars are actually energy beings. As such, we're capable of so much more than Earth astronomy has observed. For one thing, we can move...and I mean, _really_ move. The Andromeda galaxy will meet the edge of Milky Way in roughly twenty-five years, give or take a few. We have that much time to terraform Mars and build tens of thousands of warships and hundreds of orbital defense platforms.”

“That's impossible!” said Dad.

“We don't get to say, 'can't!' Saying 'can't' gets us all killed. From now on, we must ask _how_ we're going to do something. We need solutions to our problems, not problems for our solutions.”

“Okay, then, _how_ are we going to do all of that?”

“I have people in Corona, Ingary, and Corvallis all working on the problem. A man named Howl, whom some of you may remember, is configuring what we call our Industrial Bifrost Device. In roughly three months, we'll begin using it to terraform Mars. A lot of our other solutions will rely upon magic.

“I'll tell you right now what I've told the assembly at Corvallis, my people in Argentina, and the Mayans. We're mostly in training mode. We need people with backgrounds in engineering, metallurgy, fabrication, machining, lean manufacturing, welding, and computer programming. We also need people with experience flying aircraft, both pre-Shift ones and dirigibles, as well as sailing. Some of you here are, shall we say, of the aquatic persuasion. You know who you are. You'll be in demand, too, since you have experience operating in a near-zero-gravity environment and in three-dimensions.

“This war will dwarf all of Earth's conflicts combined. We'll need coordinated efforts across all continents for this to work.” She turned around. “Ya-Leif,” she said to my son, “how would you like to do something even more interesting than Ruantallan's Elite Guard?”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like piloting a starship.”

“You're serious?”

“Yes. If you'd like to do that, you'll still be leaving home for a while, but you'll be training in Oregon under the Bear Lord Mike Havel. He's a good man. You'll learn a lot from him and you'll be able to return here to train others. And we won't try to subvert your mind the way Billy would have in Halifax. Think about it.”

She turned toward me. “Ya-Jade, you have your work cut out for you. But don't worry, you're not alone. I'll send a team here shortly to discuss certain things further. In the meantime, you have a domain to run. And I have a meeting to attend in Cleveland.

“Remember, though, that just because you don't see me in this form...” She gestured to herself. “...that doesn't mean I'm not watching.” She raised a hand and pointed at the sun. “So long as you can see that, then I can see you.”

Rapunzel and her daughter seemed to dematerialize, collapsing into a pair of brightly-glowing orbs. They rose into the sky and hurtled away southwestward. I sat there, stunned. My brain spun again.  
All of a sudden, I felt something warm and wet between my legs and a familiar cramping from my lower abdomen. I tipped my head backward. Of all the times for that to happen, why, why, _why_ did it have to be then?  
Luke rushed toward me. MacDoughal picked himself up off the ground, but Luke laid him out again. Luke knelt down in front of me, took my hand and raised an eyebrow. I nodded and exhaled, cringing as another contraction came and went.

You know, I rang, I'd really rather not give birth on...my...throne. I switched to my human voice. “Um, Cori? Could you take over for me for now? I'm going to be a bit...arrrr....busy for a while.”

“You got it!” she said. Good ol' dependable Cori. I could always count on her to watch my back. She trotted toward me, then turned around. “Okay, people! Our Jade's having her baby, in case you haven't noticed. Let's get this idiot...” she growled as she kicked MacDoughal in the ribs, maybe a little harder than I would have. On the other hand, MacDoughal had personally committed Primae Noctis against Cori's daughter. I was glad mine had escaped that by marrying a mer and living underwater. “...arrested. All of you...” She pointed at the soldiers. “...take a break for a while. Everyone else...as you were!” She turned to me. “How was that?”

“I think...” I grunted through another contraction. “...that maybe you should be wearing the metal hat instead of me.”

“Wouldn't Rapunzel just take it away and give it right back to you?”

“Yeah, I suppose, but...” Another contraction. “...I kind of have other things on my mind right now.”

Two soldiers trotted over, picked MacDoughal's unconscious body off the ground and carried it away. “Uh...guys?” I called after them. They stopped and looked over their shoulders. “You _are_ taking him to jail, aren't you?”

“Uh...yeah,” said one. He sounded a little annoyed.

“Just checking. As you were.”

Their footsteps receded as two other people appeared with a stretcher.

“You know,” I grunted, “I've had twelve children. I think I can walk to the infirmary, thanks.” Whether or not I _could_ really wasn't the issue. I'd just been made what amounted to a queen and the idea of being carried out of my own coronation court on a stretcher was not the sort of image I wanted to leave with the people of Port Toulouse. I owed them more than that. I had responsibilities to them. I suddenly felt absolutely terrified.

“Honey?” said Luke. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little scared, that's all.” A little? Pft!

“The last four went smoothly. You'll be fine.”

 _It's not the delivery that's worrying me,_ I rang as Luke helped me to my feet and took some of my weight. _It's everything else...everything that's wound up in this hat I'm wearing._

 _Oh,_ he rang back. _Not sure I'll be much help._

 _That's what you think, mister!_ I reached over and placed the crown of the Dominara, the one Rapunzel had taken from Mary, on Luke's head...a bit unceremoniously, I might add. He briefly stiffened. _And there'd better be a couple of fruity oatey bars in it for me,_ I added.

 _Anything, sweetheart,_ he replied.

“Guys?” said Cori from behind me. “Must you?”

“Cori,” I said, “would you be a dear and organize a regional meeting? Say, this time next week at City Hall? I'm going to have some...uh...Dominara-ing to do...or whatever.”

“Sure thing!” Cori trotted off. That woman was amazing. I made a mental note to appoint her to something. In the meantime, I had a baby to deliver.

**Author's Note:**

> Jade's Fruity Oatey Bars
> 
> ½ cup butter, melted  
> ¾ cup honey  
> 4 eggs  
> 2 cups pumpkin (or other squash), cooked & mashed  
> 2 ½ cups rolled oats  
> ½ cup buckwheat flour  
> ½ cup flaxseed meal  
> 1 cup raw pumpkin seeds  
> 1 cup chopped dates  
> 1 cup raisins  
> 1 cup wild fruit, seasonal
> 
> Mix butter, honey, eggs, & pumpkin until well-homogenized. Stir in dry ingredients. Turn mixture into Dutch oven and bake until firm and top is golden-brown. Let firm, then cut into bars.
> 
> Note: this is the post-Change version. The version I use employs olive oil, canned pumpkin, cashews, and sometimes cinnamon, all of which would likely be nearly impossible to obtain in post-Change Nova Scotia. It's a recipe adapted from the Apricot Bars in “The Whole Foods Cookbook.” That recipe also calls for whole-wheat flour and I also add wheat bran. I generally use a 9x9 silicone baking pan and bake at 350 F for 30 minutes. After the Change, an oven would likely be the cast-iron wood-burning sort people used in the 19th century, or a masonry stove.


End file.
